


Another Nightmare

by Writingwife83



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD Sherlock, Post-Episode: s04e03 The Final Problem, Prompt Fill, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25834918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writingwife83/pseuds/Writingwife83
Summary: Sentence prompt- “shh, you’re safe, I won’t let you go.”
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38
Collections: Wifey’s Sherlolly Prompts





	Another Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> *Trigger warning for hinting at PTSD*  
> (This was previously in my collection “The Detective, the Pathologist, and the Prompt” but that is now strictly for prompts filled before 2020)

“Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go.”

Molly murmured the words against Sherlock’s hair, securing her arms around him as she felt him do the same. His hands fisted bunches of her night shirt and face pressed into her collarbone, breathing hot and unsteady against her skin.

It was another nightmare. She could tell because she was unfortunately rapidly beginning to recognize the pattern. This made the seventh one that month and the second within that week. Not a welcome routine, but also not a surprising one, being only three months since his ordeal at Sherrinford. Some of these dreams seemed milder but some were worse.

This one definitely seemed worse.

He never really detailed them, but had alluded to enough that she had a pretty good idea of the horrors his mind was both replaying and distorting. 

Sherlock’s head tilted upward, pressing instantly urgent and passionate kisses to her neck as he tugged her in tighter against him.

“It was you this time,” he whispered against her skin. “You were…and I couldn’t-“

“It wasn’t real and I’m- I’m ok,” Molly assured him breathlessly, fingers tangling in his hair as her mind started to go deliciously blank.

He needed help. She knew it and was pretty sure he did as well. He needed more than she could give him, and certainly more than he could give himself. Heaven forbid he use his own coping methods. She’d probably have to give him a little push though, to take the steps in actually seeking out the right kind of help.

But that would be for tomorrow, she decided, feeling his grip on her sleep shirt tighten as he tugged it up and over her head, tossing it aside as his mouth found hers and hands came back to her body as if they couldn’t get there fast enough.

In that moment, in the dark of night and the quiet of her cozy little bedroom, he just needed the reminder that they were both alive, safe, and all was well. 

And that, she was more than willing to give him. 


End file.
